


Use Your Words

by zedi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blowjobs, Bottom Harry, Coming Untouched, Fluff, Football Player Louis, M/M, Mentions of Masterbation, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Rimming, Smut, Song Lyrics, Top Louis, because it is my weakness, do you even tag bro, dumb boys in love, flowerchild Harry, flowercrown harry, how do you even tag, louis singing to harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10096871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zedi/pseuds/zedi
Summary: based off this prompt:collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs  in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.





	

**Author's Note:**

> un-beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine. Also, first time I've written a smut scene in FOREVER so hopefully I did alright.
> 
> ___

 

 

 

It’s a rainy Tuesday after lunch and Harry hears the raspy singing immediately start up when he walks through the door to music theory.

_Here come those eyes_

_There goes my ability to breathe_

_Those legs are walking her to me_

_Oh tell me I ain’t dreamin’~_

Guffawing laughter drowns out the rest of the words, and he’s ducking his head instinctively to let his curls cover his face. The blush is hot and unwanted. The words are empty and teasing as always and Harry wishes that Louis Tomlinson wouldn’t sing sappy love songs at him every time they’re within hearing distance of each other.

Louis Tomlinson, star football captain and blessed favorite student of everyone, sits on the back of his seat across the room like a throne, welcoming the attention from his fellow peers like his birthright. His friends are all circled around him, laughing loudly and piling on praise for ‘ _another ace song choice_ ’ for today’s joke at Harry’s expense.

Seating himself quickly at the front of class, he reaches up to adjust the crown sitting on his curls, fingertips careful on the flower petals. Ignoring the raucous group behind him, he pulls out his well loved journal and quickly write down the song lyrics. If there’s one thing Harry can agree on, it’s Louis’ taste in songs.

Blush still pink on his cheeks, he’s grateful when the professor calls for quiet and starts the lecture. He never knows that the blues eyes focused towards the front are watching him and not the teacher.

* * *

 

Harry had first encountered Louis halfway through his first year at uni, after tentatively attending a party that he’d been invited to. It’d been thrown by Niall, a loud, happy Irishman who knew everyone and threw the best parties on canvas. It had been the cheerful lad himself who’d begged him to come, and Harry was very bad at saying ‘no’.

The dorm had been packed to burst by the time the he’d shown up. Tucked into his nicest skinny jeans and a soft pink button up, and hair pulled half up in braids. He’d felt...cute, liked how long his hair was getting back then, proud of the sheer pink nail varnish he’d even painted on with a slightly trembling hand.

If he was going to party, he’d thought, might as well give it everything he had. Most of the year before then had seen him holed up in his dorm, studying and having long phone calls with his mum and sister. Having chosen a school away from his hometown, Harry had no friends with him to keep him from hiding away. No one to remind him that his love of soft, pretty things was okay.

It had taken about 10 minutes to find Niall in the crowd, brash lilting voice floating about the room like an indecisive ghost. His cheek had been blotchy with too many shots and the hand he clapped on Harry’s shoulder left a sting. But Niall’s enthusiasm was contagious, and soon he’d convinced Harry to take three shots of cheap tequila and cheering loudly to everyone nearby ‘ _Tis is my mate Harry, be nice or I’ll shave ye bald!’_

The night had gone well, Harry getting progressively braver with every shot he knocked back, giggling and swaying with his arms in the air to the music blasting. His downfall began when clever hands slipped onto his hips and a ringing, crisp voice whispered in his ear.

“You look so wonderful in this dress. I love your hair like that.” giggling, Harry looked over his shoulder to see the face of the boy who was flirting with him. The first thing he saw was blue eyes, laughter shining bright and crinkled by the corners. He felt caught in them, or maybe it was that last shot of cupcake flavored vodka.

Thin, soft lips pulling up in a smirk, the stranger went on, “The way it falls on the side of your neck, down your shoulders and back.” Harry thinks this pretty eyed man needs to have a drink. He’s too composed, stroking a finger over the soft of his hip and pressing them together with his other hand. They start moving together to the music still blasting and Harry leans his head back, closing his eyes.

He doesn’t even remember the rest of what was whispered in his ear while they danced, but he thinks it might have included something about how beautiful he looked and the words are somehow familiar, but he can’t place them. It doesn’t matter. There’s a cute boy against his back and hands feeling over him, hips grinding into his arse like a promise. Harry hoped the boy would end up in his bed.

And then he’s cold and alone.

One second they’re grinding together indecently to Rihanna, the next Harry’s pushing back against air, stumbling when his mysterious dance partner disappears into seemingly thin air.

He tried to scour the crowd, disgruntled pout on his face, before he came to the conclusion that the boy with blue eyes and a voice like fall leaves scraping along the concrete was gone as mysteriously as he’d come.

Harry flops down onto his bed, done with his classwork and studying for the night and still feeling the effects of thinking pulsing around his skull. Staring up at the ceiling, he blindly reaches for his phone and the earphones on his night stand. He opens google and types in the lyrics he’s memorised by now, quickly finding the song title and artist and switching over to spotify. He plugs in and settles into a more comfortable position before clicking play, letting the playful guitar and smooth voice fill his mind.

He doesn’t know why he started looking up the songs Louis teased him with. Maybe he’s a masochist, or a glutton for punishment, or is just pathetic. Maybe it’s a weird sort of protest. Whatever the reason, it’s become a ritual now. Write down the lyrics or song title if he knows it, look it up at the end of the day, listen to sappy love song after sappy love song and wonder absently why Louis has targeted him in this way.

And if he sometimes brings himself off thinking about Louis singing the sweet lyrics into his hair and pretending it’s his hand stroking him, no one needs to know.

* * *

 

The second time Harry came face to face with Louis, he was considerably more sober. Niall had dragged him to one of the school’s home games for the football team, after Harry had mentioned that he had never attended one before. The irish lad had even insisted on dressing him up in spirit colours. He’d foisted a random jersey and a clumsily made flower crown onto him upon arriving at Harry’s dorm. The jersey had been almost too snug, but the crown (made with faux flowers in the team’s colours, of course) was such a sweet gesture of support that he’d teared up.

“Ye don’t have to get all soppy on me Haz, ya look good in flowers.”

They’d gotten to the stadium early at Niall’s insistence, claiming what he’d boasted as the best seats on the bleachers. Right smack dab in the middle of the field, first row, they had perfect seats to watch the team do warm up stretches. Niall was yelling greetings and joking insults, while Harry was ducking his head and blushing by association.

Trying to peek up discreetly, he’s greeted by the sight of mouth watering examples of athleticism, lean muscles pulled taut and on display. He’s reminded that, since he started uni, he hasn’t been with anyone. The closest he’s come to intimacy was at Niall’s party with what he’s now convinced was a drunken hallucination.

A hallucination that’s just got done bending over with his hands pressed flat to the grass.

Averting his eyes, he tugs at Niall’s shirt hem. “Niall, who’s number 28?”

“Eh? Number twe-what, Louis? Louis Tomlinson? Harry, come on now, everyone knows who Lou is.” Niall’s gives him a look of confusion, before blinking into one of realisation. “Wait, guess you wouldn’t’ve, sorry Haz. He’s our star player, captain of the team. Even more popular than me, if ye c’n believe it.” At that he plonks down next to Harry, slinging an arm around his shoulders and smiling. “Why? Think he’s cute?”

“He-I, uh, n-just. H-He was the, the guy who danced with me at the party? The one that disappeared?” sometimes Harry wishes he didn’t wear his emotions so openly on his face. He can feel a blush spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck, hot and telling. Niall’s smile has morphed into a knowing smirk now.

“The one wit’ eyes the ‘ _colour of water off the coast o’ the caribbean_ ’? Thought you said you’d drunk imagined him?”

“Apparently not, since he’s over there showing off an arse that could bring about war peace!” Harry hisses, slapping at his friend when he begins to let out a signature cackle. He manages to shove Niall of the bench, though it only makes the other boy laugh harder.

“Jokes on you, then, mate! You’re wearing his jersey!!” Niall manages to choke out, before going back to helplessly rolling around on the ground.

Red from head to toe, Harry checks if the players have noticed the two of them while he pleads with the irish lad. “Niall I can’t believe you, why would you do this to me? Shut up, please he’s gonna-”

Too late. At that moment, blue eyes that have haunted Harry’s dreams are catching with his. They’re both frozen, caught in a time capsule of what’s in reality only a few seconds, and then.

The moment passes. Louis, the man he thought he’d never see again, turns away just like that.

What?

After threatening Niall that he’d go shirtless and pouting pathetically, the irishman trades shirts with him by the time the bleachers start filling up and the players circle up for pre-game. He wastes the whole game trying to understand why someone who’d whispered such enticing things in his ear would act as if he wasn’t there. He wastes even more games sitting next to Niall developing a crush.

Louis shines bright. Harry can almost feel the world shift to his whim. He can’t believe those fickle eyes ever focused on him, even for a small time. He still knows what those small, quick hands felt like on his hips. Can sometimes still sense the whisper of teasing words in his ear.

Harry was helpless to resist the pull, fell into line with the rest of the world at Louis Tomlinson’s feet.

* * *

 

Come the first day of his second year, fresh from summer hols and visiting back home, Harry had been much more comfortable in his own skin.

He’d gone shopping with Gemma on a day trip for new clothes, filling his wardrobe with soft pastels and growing his nail varnish collection to fit his every mood. He also had learned how to make flower crowns, giddly creating a rainbow pile of headwear with both his mum and sis on a sunny weekend.

All day he’d received compliments on his look, people even asking where he’d gotten the crown of fake morning glories tucked among his curls.

Until he got to his first class of music theory.

He’d breezed in, head held high and spring in his step, and almost tripped on nothing when a high, teasing voice carried through the air.

_Baby it's you_

_You're the one I looooove_

_You're the one I neeeeed_

_You're the only one I see_

Whipping his head around in confusion, his eyes had landed on none other than Louis Fucking Tomlinson. He’d worn a smirk that shouldn’t have made Harry’s knees weak so easily, lounged on his desktop and surrounded by students that were vying for his attention. Everyone seemed as unsure about how they were supposed to react to this interruption.

Mischievous sparkle in his eye, Louis plays everyone like a room full of marionettes. “Nice flowers, Curly. Fit for a Princess.”

As the titters of laughter fills the room around them, Harry wants the floor to swallow him. Damn Louis. Damn him and the ease with which he bends the world to his will. Damn him for dancing with him that night.

Damn him for having Harry wrapped around his small fingers like the rest of the world.

And so became the daily ritual that was ruining Harry’s sanity. Every day he was greeted by a new, short serenade from the beautiful, cruel man. Every day Harry would ignore the teasing and write down the song. Every day he listened to it before settling down for sleep.

Niall’s taken to giving him pitying looks every time a new love song plays off Harry’s playlist when they study together. He’s had to listen to loud irish rants about how Louis needs to grow the fuck up. Niall’s had to listen to miserable drunken questions from Harry when they’ve had one too many. The cheerful lad has become a good friend to him, the two of them having video calls over the hols and texted each other meaningless pictures of objects with faces. Harry had even invited Niall to spend christmas back home this year, so he couldn’t make it to Mullingar.

“I just don’t get it Haz, he’s never done t’ings like this before. Always good f’r a laugh ye know?”

Harry’s taken to shrugging and shaking his head when Niall offers to go have a word with Louis. He doesn’t feel like it’d really fix the issue, and if he’s being truly honest with himself, there’s a part of him that likes hearing such romantic words sung in his direction.

Even if the one singing them don’t mean a word.

* * *

 

And so the week goes.

_She's the girl that no one ever knows._

_And I say hi, but she's too shy to say hello._

_She's just waiting for that one to take her hand_

_And shake her up._

_I bet I could._

Comes the belling on Wednesday. Harry finds an incredibly adorable music video for this one, and finds himself humming in the next morning.

_I never had that much to say_

_I wanna get you all alone in the worst of ways_

_I would pave a road to your door_

Greets him on Thursday. The singer for this song sounds a near match to Louis’ own voice, and Harry may have a heart attack at the first note in the audio. He also may decide to listen to the rest of the artist’s work and only feel marginally pathetic about it.

_Wise men say only fools rush in_

_But I can't help falling in love with you_

_Shall I stay_

_Would it be a sin_

_If I can't help falling in love with you_

Flows through the air on Friday, slow and strangely sad. It makes him look over at Louis this time. There’s a look there, in those enchanting blue eyes, of what Harry tries not to think is longing. He knows the version of the song, having been a fan of the artist that covered it already, and his chest clenches that night listening to it while thinking back to the heartbreaking crack in Louis voice barely overshadowed by his mates chattering.

It’s the first time Louis’ sung with anything but mirth in his voice. He’d sounded almost earnest.

Harry doesn’t know what to do about it. So he calls the only person he can think to.

His mum greets him with a tired warmth, and he winces when he checks the time and sees it half 11.

“Hey mum, sorry it’s so late. I just...needed to talk to you.”

“It’s okay darling, you know I love hearing from you anytime. But if you’re calling at this time it must be important. Is everything alright, sweetheart?”

Harry settles just hearing her voice and smiles. He misses her. “Nothing life threatening, don’t worry. I just need some advice? Don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

He explains the situation, about the mysterious dance partner at Niall’s party, about finding the boy and being ignored. Tells her about the month back in and sharing a class with Louis, about his insistent singing and sappier song choices as the days go on. Finally, he tells her about today, the look in the football star’s eyes and the longing tone in his voice.

“And I just, I’m not sure what to think? At first I thought he was just having a laugh, you know, single out the lad with flowers in his hair, but now...I just don’t know, mum.”

“Well, it’s sounds to me like this boy is trying to get your attention. You said you’ve just ignored him every time? Never answered him back?”

And Harry hadn’t ever considered it. Was just responding like you would to a bully; ignore it, they’ll lose interest. But what if Louis has been waiting for him to...sing _back_?

They talk for a while longer, updating each other on their lives and laughing together over Niall’s latest shenanigans. When they hang up it’s past midnight, but Harry feels relaxed and warm and falls asleep with thoughts about home and an idea about dealing with confusing serenades.

* * *

 

Over the weekend Harry searches his entire music library for a song to answer Louis with. He’s decided that if he’s going to sing back to the golden man, he might as well do it right. By the time Monday rolls back around, he’s ready.

Or, he thought he was.

But when he walks in the room, Ed Sheeran on the tip of his tongue, he’s not expecting what greets him.

_Hike up your skirt,  little boy_

_and show your world to me_

_In a boys dream.. In a boys dream_

The whole class goes silent, awkward coughs and shifting from the fellow students in their seats. Even the Louis groupies are sitting with confused looks on their faces. Harry’s just staring at the King himself, who’s starting to look unsure of himself for the first time. He clears his throat, mouth opening and closing, but seemingly at a loss for what went wrong.

He got the words wrong. Not only that, but the words suggest something that has him blushing along with everyone else in the room.

Finally, Harry’s mind kicks into gear and he goes for it anyway. He doesn’t know why he chooses the new lyrics, but it feels right to respond now from the same song Louis chose.

_Who's got their claws_

_In you my friend_

_Into your heart I'll beat again_

His voice isn’t very steady and he can barely hear himself over the hammering of his heart in his ears, but Louis’ lit up like the sun and those sparkling eyes are beaming at him, so he takes it as a win. That is, until Louis hops down from his usual perch atop his desk and starts making his way over.

Harry watches like a startled deer as the shorter man comes closer, and Harry had somehow never noticed the difference in their height. Louis always seemed larger than life, filling up every room he was in like a giant icon. He comes to a stop a foot from Harry, and the smile he shines up at him could power the whole of England.

“Didn’t think I’d never get you to answer, Curly.”

“Thought you were making fun of me.” Harry knows he’s pouting, but he had truly been hurt that first day. He watches as the man’s face crumples, a concerned frown taking place of the smile.

“Why would I…?” the class is watching them now, and Louis catches the way Harry shifts uncomfortably. Surprisingly dainty hand taking him gently by the waist, the older boy leads them out of the room and outside. He carefully leads them to a secluded area before returning to their conversation. “Do you not...do you not remember me?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to be confused. “What do you mean?” Louis can’t possibly be talking about the party, could he?

“Back in March, Niall threw a party. You were there, yeah? Looked like sin dancing in your tight skinnies and hair plaited back.”

“ _You_ remember that?!”

“Of course! Do you know how long I tried to figure out who you were?”

And Harry feels thrown now, because all he can think of was that moment at that first football game. “I attended all the home games after, you looked right at me! Niall was being loud while the team was stretching, and you’d looked right at us.”

“Oh. I-hold on.” Now Louis digging out what looks like a lighter from his pocket, and Harry is utterly confused until he flips the top and pulls out a pair of fold up glasses. “Don’t wear them a lot, not unless I’m at the back of class and the professors got writing on the board. Bit near sighted, can’t see over distances too well.” he gives Harry a sheepish grin. “I knew it was Niall, everyone knows that cackle of his, but you sorta looked like a faceless student from the field. And, hang on, _all_ the home games???”

Harry’s blushing again, he knows, but he decides to finally get an answer after all this time. “Why did you disappear that night? You just seemed to vanish into thin air all of a sudden. Tried to find you for half an hour before I had to give up. Thought I’d imagined you.”

Louis rubs at the back of his neck, looking apologetic. “Ah, yeah, that. One of my mates had come up and dragged me away. Turned out a friend of mine’s ex was harassing her, and I just couldn’t leave her like that. Ended up escorting her back to her dorm, and by the time I’d gotten back to the party you were gone.” he winces slightly, and looks up at Harry with remorse. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you, but I really hadn’t had the chance.”

Having all the information laid out before him, Harry asks the last question on his mind. “Ok, so you’re a bit near sighted and had to go help a friend, I get that. But why have you been singing at me everyday? You could’ve just come up to me and say ‘hi’ like a normal person.”

At that Louis laughs, caught off guard by Harry’s bluntness. “Because I was waiting to see if you recognised me. Spent that night at Niall’s singing in your ear-”

“Wait, what?” Harry thinks back to that night, the words Louis had been whispering in his ear. He’d thought they were familiar at the time, but he had been drunk and preoccupied with the way the other man had felt pressed against his back.

“Ed Sheeran? Tenerife Sea? Thought it was an appropriate song for the way you’d looked that night, all soft and pretty like that.” and oh.

He can only slump against the wall they’re tucked up behind, looking up at the sky. How could he not figure out it’d been a song Louis had been quoting to him that night? And a favorite of his to top if off? Covering up his face with his hands, he lets out an embarrassed groan.

Hearing a soft chuckle from next to him, Harry peeks through his fingers. Louis looks tickled by the situation, grinning outright and leaning a shoulder against the wall next to Harry.

“So you’re telling me that this entire time you’ve been singing sappy love songs at me because you think this is an 80’s movie? Were you going to start holding up a boom box if it’d kept on?”

“Oi!” Louis is giggling now, smacking a light hand to his shoulder. “Princess like you deserves a whole chorus singing about how pretty you look, I think!” and now it’s finally Louis’ turn to blush, spluttering and tripping over his words. Harry just laughs delightedly, bending over and holding his stomach. Who knew the most popular boy in school was an absolute romantic idiot.

Harry is so gone for this boy.

* * *

 

Niall socks Louis in the arm and calls him an idiot the first time they all hang out together, but otherwise welcomes him after Harry explains what had been going on, teasing Louis when he blushes and fidgets on the sofa next to him. Louis tries to defend himself.

“It worked in the end, didn’t it?!”

“Mate, anyone would’ve t’ought ye were singling them out. You’re just lucky Haz is a masochist. Kept adding the songs to ‘is spotify and pining. Idiots, the both of ye, truly meant to be!”

Harry tries to smother Niall with a pillow.

* * *

 

They fall into an easy group, and Harry’s not sure where they’re meant to go from here. He’s happy hanging out in the bright gravity that is Louis Tomlinson, getting to know his loud, loud, loud personality and soft, soft, soft heart from close range. He now knows that the man is a little insecure about his height, that as much as he loves football, music is his true passion. He learns about his five younger sisters and one brother that he absolutely adores, hears him talk about his mum with such love in his voice it makes Harry miss his own.

But he still finds himself wanting to lean up and kiss those thin lips when they snuggle on the couch, wants to reach out and intwine their fingers when they walk around campus. Wants to quietly sing songs to each other late at night, wants to be tangled up in Louis so completely he can’t tell who’s skin is who’s.

They’re well on their way to the second month they’ve officially become friends, and they’ve never moved past that. Louis hasn’t even sung to him, and Harry misses the sound of his unique voice bringing the lovesick words to life. But he doesn’t know if Louis still wants something more, or if becoming friends is enough for him. And he definitely doesn’t know how to ask.

It’s not until Niall throws his first big party of the year that he gets a chance to find out. He goes all out, even calling up Gemma to panic about what he should wear that might make Louis want him _like that_. She mostly laughs and tells him to just show up wearing a bow. Unhelpful.

He ends up settling on a baby blue button up, sheer and left mostly open, his black skinnies that shapes his legs just right and makes his arse look cute. He may or may not have slipped on silky cream coloured knickers for added courage, blushing at the way they felt against his skin. He topped the outfit off by braiding half his hair back, carefully plaiting flowers into the curly strands.

If this doesn’t get Louis’ attention, he’s not sure what will.

* * *

 

He arrives a little late from how long it had ended up taking to do his hair, so the dorm is pulsing with bass and bodies by the time he’s squeezing his way in. He hears Niall before he sees him, solo cup in hand and raucous cackle bouncing along with the music pumping through the air.

He makes his way over, and sees Louis is with him, giggling helplessly into his arm and slapping his thigh. He’s sat on the back of the sofa, the center of it all as always, looking like a dream in dark grey skinnies that are rolled up at the ankle and a deep red shirt that dips at the neckline to show off his collarbones.

Harry can’t take his eyes off of him.

He makes it through the crowd and is greeted by his loud irish friend by a clumsy clap on the shoulder and a shot shoved in his hand from thin air. It gives him a headrush, the parallel to that first party all those months ago.

But now when he turns around after downing the shot, there’s warm blue eyes already staring at him with a fire that makes Harry’s nerve endings feel raw and on display. Louis hops off the couch, gaze raking over his body like he might devour him. Harry’s helpless to do anything but lean his head down towards his, like a flower to the sun.

“ _Dressed up like a princess, bettin' that her skin smells better than the scent of every flower in the desert, come on._ ” Harry’s grinning before Louis’ even finished, blush spreading across his cheeks as those clever hands are finally sliding onto his hips and pulling him close. “Fuck Hazza, look so good tonight, love. Wanna show you off, everyone’s looking at you baby.”

His knees almost buckle at being called ‘ _baby_ ’, Jesus, and Harry finds he’s already on his way to being half hard where he’s plastered himself to Louis. It’s been so long, it’s been too long. Harry has been pining after this man for more than half a year now, with nothing but his hand and the fantasies he’d tortured himself with. He hasn’t been with anyone since before he started uni, a messy snog with someone he doesn’t remember the face of. So having Louis here, now, pressing into him and looking up at him with those blue eyes blown wide, he can’t be expected not to be effected.

“Lou, didn’t think y-you wanted…” thin lips are cutting him off, making him forget for a second that sucking Louis off right then and there would not be appropriate. He’s fisting his hands in the older man’s shirt, and it’s a good thing Louis’ got a hold of him because he’d probably melt into the floor otherwise. “Lou, Lou please, ‘ve wanted you this whole time”

“Hush, love, I’ve got you. Tell me you dressed up like that for me? Driving me crazy.”

A loudly clearing throat next to them snaps the two out of their bubble, Niall raising an eyebrow at them with a pink tint to his cheeks. “Ye two wanna move this little love scene to a room somewhere? Before you scar me party guests?” and right, they’re not alone. Pulling apart, they sheepishly adjust themselves and give awkward chuckles. Feeling drunk off adrenaline, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands for once.

“Sorry Ni. But we need to leave early. I need this man to tear my clothes off.” grabbing Louis by his shirt front, Harry giggles to himself at the hoots and cheers that follow them out of the dorm. Thankfully, Niall lives in the same dorm block as Harry, so it’s only a very distracted journey to the floor below and halfway down a hall before they reach his own dorm room.

Louis’ got him pressed against the door as soon as it closes behind them, quick fingers finding and sliding the lock home as he sucks a bruise under Harry’s ear. He bangs his head back against the wood, moaning and offering up more of his neck to the shorter man, writhing against the door because he can’t help himself. He wants Louis yesterday.

“Lou, please, can we-nng, bed, take me to bed”

“Baby, gonna take care of you, yeah? Hang onto me love, I’ve got you.” Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck, and then he’s being lifted into his arms, whimpering and rubbing against the solid body holding him up. “Gotta, fuck, Hazza baby stay still love.” As Louis carries him toward his bed, Harry takes to mouthing at his neck instead.

Laying him out on the mattress with a tenderness that don’t fit the way Harry’s arching into him, Louis begins kissing down the lean body under him, undoing the buttons of his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders as he goes. Harry pulls at Louis’ own shirt “off, off, Lou, wanna feel you” and soon both tops are tossed across the room, Louis rolling his torso against him and capturing his plumper lips with his own, thinner ones. It’s sloppy and heated, tongues wrestling together and making them both moan into each others mouths.

“Hazza, Haz, wanna-fuck, can I touch you baby?” Harry nods frantically, hands dropping down to try and undo his too tight jeans, smaller hands knocking his away to take over. Louis keeps leaning up for messy kisses from him, like he can’t stay away, and it lights his skin up to think that maybe the other boy is just as affected as he is.

Fly successfully opened, Louis reaches his hand in and palms over the outline of his aching cock and oh. Harry’s hips jump at the touch, head thrown back on a moan as he grinds up against the hand stroking him through his underwear...wait…

Louis’ hand stills, his whole body does, before he leans back to look at the silky knickers barely containing his twitching cock, breath hitching in his throat. “Jesus fuck H, _Princess_ , are those panties?” and Harry can’t help the whimper he lets out. Because. Louis called him _Princess_ and it’s so reverent on his tongue, sends his mind to that first day in music theory.

“ _Nice flowers, Curly. Fit for a Princess._ ”

Harry nods shyly, flushed to his toes at the way Louis’ looking at him, thumb caressing the soft material stretched over his leaking prick. He watches in slow motion as the lean, fit body above him moves down on the bed and those kiss pink lips drop down to drag over the front of his panties and _yes_.

Louis’ name comes out on a moan, Harry’s hands clutching at his shoulders and back arching. He gets lost in the teasing kisses and licks the older man is giving through the thin fabric, small but firm hands holding his restless hips against the mattress, and he knows how wrecked he already sounds when those hands pull his jeans all the way off and the head of his dick is given a wet suck where it peeks above the waistline.

“So pretty baby, look at you, haven’t even got my mouth around you proper yet and you’re like this. You’re so beautiful Princess, gonna take care of you yeah? Want that?”

The question is met with a chant of “ _yesyesyesLouplease_ ” and soon he’s pulled fully out of the knickers, hot **wet** mouth sucking the head of his dick and Harry is sobbing it’s so good. His hips are being held still again but they still give small little twitches as Louis sinks lower down his shaft.

He feels his mind start to become hazy, thoughts taken over with _LouisLouisLouis_ and trying not to come yet. It’s hard (pun intended), especially when one of Louis’ hands reach up his body and clever fingers are pinching and rolling his left nipple.

He knows he’s begging, keening, and whimpering, back arched and knees bent as his thighs tremble on either side of Louis’ head. Louis moans around him as he bobs and twirls his tongue along the vein, swirling over the head when he pulls the foreskin back. Everything about Louis is clever, his mouth, his hands, his voice, and Harry can’t help the overwhelmed sounds falling from his mouth.

Looking down, he reaches to push soft feather fringe off Louis’ forehead and suddenly he’s pinned in place by blown blue eyes. He breath catches, his own eyes wide as Louis pulls off, giving tight suction on the way up. “Baby, can I take these off? Wanna taste you.”

Harry’s nodding before he’s even finished the question, lifting his hips eagerly to help slide the delicate panties down and off. Louis leans up for a kiss, fucking his tongue into Harry’s mouth before gently coaxing him unto his stomach.

Hands are brushing down his back, down, down, down until they’re grabbing handfuls of his arse cheeks, spreading them apart and making Harry arch his hips back into the touch. “Fuck baby, even pretty here...can I? Wanna taste you, Princess, lemme make you feel good?” and god, Louis’ voice sounds _wrecked_ from giving Harry a blow job, raspy and deeper than usual. Harry just buries his face in the pillow and sobs out a moan. He feels his breath over him before the first kiss laid against his hole, hips having to be held still again when he presses back eagerly for more. He doesn’t have to wait this time, Louis seemingly tired of teasing as well and he begins laving long, broad licks over his rim and turning Harry into a sobbing mess.

The sounds filling the room are obscene, slurps and wet sounds as Louis licks and sucks and nibbles at him, Harry wanton beneath him. He can’t think anymore, just a live wire under Louis’ tongue, hand thrown back and threaded in Louis’ hair, trying to press him deeper. He gives a choked off sound when the first press past his rim comes, and then he’s going rigid as his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, clenching around the tongue still fucking into his hole.

It’s the hardest he’s come in a long time, maybe ever, and it pulses through him for longer than he’s ever experienced. When he finally starts to come down, flopping onto the mattress and panting, Louis is still lapping at his arsehole like it’s the best treat. He’s over sensitive, trying to squirm away.

“Loouu, ‘s too much.” at that, Louis’ mouth finally moves away, placing lingering kisses to the globes of each cheek. Rolling over, he sends grabby hands up at the other boy, bodies pressing together hot and sweaty.

“That was delicious, love, hottest thing I’ve experienced in my life. Can’t believe it’s taken this long.” Louis cups Harry’s cheek in his hand and kisses him, slow and lazy, much more sweet than the heated kisses from before.

“Why did it take so long? Why hadn’t you made a move before now, when we finally became friends?”

“Not sure really, sorta wanted to get to know you first, you know? You’re wonderful, Hazza, thought you deserved someone who would want you for more than this,” he gestures between them, “wanted to be good for you, love. You’re so beautiful Harry, inside and out, wanted to do this right, since I kinda messed it up the first time.”

And Harry refuses to cry like the true sap that he is, pulling Louis into a tight hug. He can’t help the way his chin wobbles, but that’s something he can’t be blamed for.

Pulling away enough for blue to meet his own green, Louis smiles down at him. “Come on, love, let’s get you cleaned up and settled.”

“Wait, Lou, you didn’t get to finish! Let me help-” Harry’s attempt to reach for the fly of Louis’ jeans is cut off by a hand wrapping around his wrist.

“No need, love. I, er, well I sort of?” oh. There, staining the front of Louis’ trousers, is a dark patch. “Meant it when I said it was the hottest thing ever.”

Giggling together, they both help clean up and get tucked into the too small bed, Louis cuddled up behind him with an arm wrapped around his waist. And Harry thinks maybe he could fall for the man singing softly into his hair as he drifts off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> ___
> 
> re-blog for the fic [here](http://sugarbabyomega.tumblr.com/post/158018221482/use-your-words-by-zedi-rating-explicit-archive)


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